


Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem

by happy_igloo



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_igloo/pseuds/happy_igloo
Summary: “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”No, no no no. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that-he needed to stay strong. Someone out there loved him, so many people needed him. Every time the teen got like this, he was reassured by the many people around him he was needed.He couldn’t find it in his heart to believe them.His feet carried him almost without his consent to his next destination.The bridge.
Kudos: 35





	Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, this is a lil something i wrote when i was feeling down. i seriously want to warn people against reading this if they get triggered easily. i'm not sure if this is heavy angst, but i'm gonna tag it as that if you get triggered easily. enjoy the fic!

_ “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” _

He was done.

Utterly, utterly done.

How is one supposed to handle this? Peter couldn’t tell you, as he lay, head in his hands, on the school grounds. Calc II could wait. He pulled out his phone, fully expecting to be disappointed and falsely convincing himself he could do it, he could handle the absence of 3 bars. 

He could not do it.

Peter wanted to cry. He  _ wanted  _ to let his emotions out, he  _ wanted  _ support for the absolutely crushing emotions threatening to tear him apart to his very core. Yet, the single thought of someone seeing him like this, someone sitting down in front of him and having that  _ look  _ on their face. The look that feigned concern, feigned pity, to the point where Peter wanted to curl up tighter. To try and escape them. To try and escape the emotions inside of him. The famous quote, “Your mind is your worst enemy,” couldn’t be more accurate. No wound could amount to the pain he felt. He just wanted it to  _ leave him be _ , but the only way that would happen was if he had him. He was someone Peter actually wanted to be concerned for him; someone he yearned approval from, but he couldn’t reach out to them. Not with no wifi. Yes, he could get up and walk to class, but the very idea of trying to move was daunting. It was as if his legs weighed more than he could ever lift, despite using them to get here.

The bell interrupted his spiralling, as students rushed out of their classes to reach their designated lockers, where hopefully, they could find their next boost of happiness-food.

Peter stayed put. Until a thought occurred to him.

No, no no  _ no _ . He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that-he needed to stay strong. Someone out there loved him, so many people needed him. Every time the teen got like  _ this _ , he was reassured by the many people around him he was  _ needed _ . 

He couldn’t find it in his heart to believe them.

Before Peter could process it, he was standing up, walking through the now empty hallways with the occasional student scuttling by to get to their next class. What  _ was  _ Peter’s next class-he couldn’t find the strength to remember. His feet carried him almost without his consent to his next destination.

The bridge.

The realisation hit the adolescent harder than anything had previously-what was he  _ doing?  _ He panicked, the anxiety overwhelming him as he desperately sought for a reason for him to just stay  _ put,  _ to stop. Stop the feelings of this uselessness, this hopelessness, this...this pain. The need for relief was overwhelming his every instinct to turn  _ back,  _ back to his friends, the people who...who needed him here. Not  _ dead _ .

Peter never considered himself to be suicidal. No, that was attention seeking, fake,  _ you have a good life-a bed, clothes, food on the table _ . He couldn’t possibly have a bad life. 

It was too much. He couldn’t handle this. Maybe he was being dramatic, maybe he did want attention-but he wasn’t faking this. He wished he was faking this. He wouldn’t wish this  _ feeling,  _ this  _ emptiness,  _ this  _ pain,  _ on...anyone. Ever. 

Finally, the broken teen felt his seemingly numb face moisten. Tears. Finally, an outlet for the emotions to change. Surely, surely the tears would help. Surely they could ease the numbness.

“Peter! Peter-peter,  _ shit! _ ”

Tony.

His idol’s voice was a faint background noise in the cacophony of his mind. The biting wind on his face tilted the youngster’s head to see the source of the curse. It barely registered Tony was there, as something else captured his attention fully. His location.

The bridge.

“Peter, I need you to look at me. Peter!”

The faint, desperate scrabbling of Tony’s shoes met Peter’s ears, even if his mind didn’t process it, too numbed by the emptiness. As if on instinct, Peter turned to face the most enchanting eyes. He would never be able to get over the beauty of them. He could almost snap out of it, get closer to the source of comfort,  _ please- _

The brief moment of Peter’s distraction was swiftly overruled by the harsh stinging behind his eyes. His broken body was met with a new wave of-sadness? Hopelessness? He couldn’t distinguish the lump of emotion that threatened to tip him off this very bridge. He wanted it to end. He  _ needed it to end. _

“Please. Please, don’t do this. Don’t do this Peter.  _ Don’t leave me.” _

The cries met his ears too late. The choking sound of Tony’s throat catching as the man sprinting toward him, getting closer, but not close enough.

It was too late now. Peter blankly recalled the times Tony’s act would have helped.

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

_ “Little bitch. Fucking rude, don’t even want to make conversation?” _

_ “Not with someone the likes of you” He snarled back, trying to ignore the stabbing in his chest. _

_ “You eating that much? Even I’m not eating that much..fat pig” _

_ “You think you’re so cool. You think you’re so funny.” _

_ “No one actually invited you here? No one wants you to play on this team. Group huddle-no, no you’re not  _ part  _ of this group.” _

_ The whispers as he walked past. The gagging as he tried to reach his locker. _

_ “Why don’t you just kill yourself? No one actually wants you here. No one finds you funny, no one even likes you.” _

_ He didn’t want to think the words affected him.  _

_ He deflected anyone who tried to help him.  _

_ “I’m not even fucking affected by it! I’m not fucking weak. Stop trying to ‘help’ me; it’s not fucking working.”  _

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

“Please. Please Peter.  _ Please _ .”

Tony’s broken cries touched a place in Peter’s heart he didn’t like to access; the one that cared. The one that left the teen vulnerable, the part that tried to help others on instinct. No. He couldn’t let that show, ever, ever again.

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

_ “Peter’s been showing suicidal thoughts.” May broke down crying, the psychiatrist leaning across Peter to reach the tissues for May. It was a deliberate show that yes, you’re making her cry, Peter. You should be ashamed. _

_ Funny how this was the first time she had even shed a tear. Funny how it was in front of someone. Funny how she didn’t even care he wanted to jump off a bridge despite the psychiatrist; funny she didn’t even  _ believe  _ him. _

_ ‘Hope he realises what happens when the boy cries wolf.’ The text message read, the conversation between his uncle and aunt affecting him more than Peter cared to admit-even to himself. _

_ They didn’t even believe him. They thought he was being dramatic. Attention seeking. He was the boy who cried wolf; nothing else. _

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

The night air-when did it become night?-bit at Peter’s cheeks, which he was sure were red. He slowly, mechanically, lowered himself from the edge after the weight of Tony clinging to him became too much for Peter’s body to handle the balance of. He slowly lost sight of the water churning below as it gave way to the view of the concrete ledge, almost mocking him.  _ Pussy. Couldn’t even jump. _

Suicide is a permanent solution to temporary emotions, huh? No one ever told him what the other solutions entailed, when the pain became too much to bear. When his need for relief from the relentless pain overrode his will to live.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, go look up some funny cat videos if you're feeling down!


End file.
